Chapter Text
The vast, blue sky stretched above the munchmorian landscape, a few rays of sunlight falling through the openings in the layer of clouds. Gusts of wind, flowing calmly in the air, rustled the tall grass. There was the occasional yellow or pink flower sprouting on the ground. It gave the area a bit more ambiance, as it was fairly empty. Pepita Prarie isn't geographically exciting in any way, but there wasn't any need for it to be. It was simple, and that was good enough for its residents.
Overall, it was a beautiful morning.
Navigating through the terrain at this hour was a tall, well-built figure. He was dressed in the Onion Ring's recognizeable dark green uniform and helmet, from which a few of his leaves stuck out. Both had the same chevron emblem on it for extra certainty of who he belongs to. He also had streaks of grey war paint on his face, that seemed to indicate no emotion at the moment. That was none other than the leader of the group - Sergeant Crushida Pepper, or just Sarge for short. His name lives in infamy. The Onion Ring isn't exactly the most moral organization around. They're the ones responsible for the Free Pizza Day incident, which is also the reason Sarge is here. After Papa Louie successfully won against him, he was punished and sent out on recruitment duty by his superiors. He's already bad at handling losses, his pride is as bad as it gets, but what put more metaphorical salt in his mental wounds was just how publically announced the decision to send him off was. Practically everyone in the compound and beyond was aware of what happened, what mistakes he made, so on and so forth. It felt embarrasing. Devastating, even. In all honesty, they're probably expecting Sarge to just get lost on his journey and never come back.
However, he's determined. He's gonna build his way back to where he was, one new member at a time.
Well then, no time to waste, is there? Time to get to work.
- Aye, you! - Sarge had, suprisingly, noticed one of his kind. - You look eligible to join the Onion Ring, show me what you're made of.
As weirdly... simplistic as this method is, it's standard protocol deeply ingrained into the group's culture. Or, in other words, not a lot would actually willingly join them. They have to cope somehow. The smaller, brown Onion got startled by this unexpected order, and turned around. Judging by the look on his face, he was the majority.
- ...Eh? Wha..?
- I SAID, show me what you're made of! - he repeated himself louder, a clear indication that his non-exsistent patience was already being tested. He pointed at him. - Can you not comprehend basic orders?
The Onion just hit him with the blankest stare ever, like he wasn't sure if he's in the same fabric of reality that Sarge was in. He gave off the impression that he silently hoped that he'll somehow escape this interaction and it's connotations.
- ...like, you're, uh, talking to me?
- YES, I AM TALKING TO YOU, IMBECILE! I'M QUITE LITERALLY POINTING AT YOU! - Sarge approached him, and roughly grabbed him by the collar, which served to intimidate the other even more. - Now, you better tell me all about yourself. Name. Age. Height. Weight. DON'T MISS A SINGLE DETAIL, UNDERSTOOD?!
- UHH, UHHHH..! My n-name is Ruben, I was born 20 years ago, I will probably never grow above 160 centimeters, I'm VERY fluctuative in weight, I can't EVEN DO A CARTWHEEL PROPERLY, AND ALSO I WOULD LIKE TO SPEAK TO MY LAWYER ABOUT THIS!!
In his sheer frustration, Sarge picked up Ruben and, with all the power he had, launched his future subordinate at some conveniently placed nearby rocks. They shattered into tiny fragments upon impact, and as dust settled, he saw the throw left Ruben in a... perfectly fine state. No bruises, cuts, or any signs of what just happened to him.
- ...I... I told you to NOT miss any detail. - Sarge walked up to the scene left by his unadressed anger issues, recovering from the shock quite easily.
- I, uh, I didn't even know I could do that... - the dazed Ruben sat up. - ...Don't kill me for this, I swear I had no idea.
- Watch your mouth. That are some SERIOUS accusations you're saying right about now.
- Well, you just threw me at a pile of rocks seconds prior, so I have no idea what to expect of you!
- No, I'm obviously not going to kill you yet. Now, get up! - Sarge grabbed Ruben again and put him back on his feet. - We have important tasks we need to do, soldier!
- Ah! Uh! Yessir... That's what I'm supposed to say, I think.
Sarge sighed.
- ...Yeah. Follow me.
The two started walking, with the older one leading the way, and the younger trailing right behind him to avoid getting yelled at again. Or flung. Or who-knows-what-else he is able to do when he gets pissed off. Ruben would rather not risk it. They spent a minute or so walking in silence, before he shyly spoke up again.
- ...Where are we even going?
Sarge glanced at him.
- It's not that we're "going anywhere", we're supposed to follow a set of waypoints - his new boss explained, pulling out a map of Munchmore and showing it to Ruben. It had a route sketched across it with a pencil, stretching through many of the world's biomes. There were also a few, frankly unrelevant to the topic notes along the side. - Our job is basically to recruit soldiers. You're helping with that, by the way.
- Eh, I'm not the best at convincing people and stuff-
- That was a statement, not a question - he interrupted, glaring at him with his olive eyes and speaking in a commanding tone. - Whatever your leader says, goes. No if's and but's.
- How do I even know who's right for the job? - his underling still had some doubts about the process. Shockingly, he never anticipated being drafted into a militarian organization of questionable ethics.
- Just... take in everyone you see. You'll learn how to tell the difference eventually...
As he said that, a fluttering noise had suddenly grabbed their attention, and they stopped walking to identify what was making it. Looking up, they spotted a Buckeye doing what most Buckeyes do, flying around in no particular pattern with their little leaf-copters. While generally harmless, it's not pleasant to have something bump into you unexpectedly, especially when you're carrying something important. Safe to say, Sarge has had this exact scenario happen to him a few times when he himself was new to the army, and the consequences weren't exactly a slap on the wrist and a warning to be more careful. Not like he'll ever admit it, though. Remembering his past experiences, Crushida was about to hide the map he showcased to Ruben and continue on his way, when he lost his grip on it after getting striked by the flying Snackimal, just like the good old times. Having nothing holding the piece of paper down anymore, the wind lifted it and started to carry it away.
- What the- HEY!
Sarge immediately began chasing after the map, with Ruben following suit. Rather, trying to, because his running speed paled in comparison to Sarge's. It's not exactly surprising, considering one has spent a good portion of his life serving the Onion Ring, and the other is just some rando pulled of the streets. Ruben is just easily impressed, he doesn't have a lot of talents to his name. Maybe except for his resilience to injuries, but he's still in denial about this.
Meanwhile, not that far away stood a cozy trailer-store, mostly painted in white with a brown bottom. It had two window cutouts and a door decorated in blue-and-orange awnings. It was slightly rusty in a few spots, but nothing too bad. The choice of placement, however - the outskirts of a quiet region, doesn't seem all too logical. Inside, the owner of the portable shop was not doing anything in particular, aside from waiting for a customer to show up. That's when the map flew through the window, straight into his face. He took it off and examined it briefly, before he noticed the two men catching up in the distance. When Sarge got close, he saw just who has found his item.
- ...Big Pauly? What are you doing in Munchmore?
- Well, hello there, pal! - Big Pauly said, completely avoiding the given question. He held up the map and pointed at it. - I assume this is yours?
- Yes. Now give it back - Sarge demanded.
- Of course, of course! - the salesman smiled, but then added. - For a price, that is.
There was a brief silence, as Crushida was dumbfounded by what Pauly said.
-...What.
- Yeah, that's right! For a low, low price, you can buy this very helpful map today! - Big Pauly advertised. - I assure you, you'll never get lost with this handy little thing on you.
- Stop joking around and give it back to me! - he extended his hand, irritated for the second time today (but then again... does this guy feel anything other than annoyance?).
- Why would I? - Pauly asked, his tone now turning slightly smug. - The way I see it, you lost something important, and I coincidentally have a very similar thing that I'm selling right now. I didn't know if it belongs to anyone in the first place.
- So, now you know. It's MINE. It belongs to ME.
Big Pauly looked over it again with a curious look.
- Ohhh. That makes it second-hand then! I'll be sure to lower the price a bit.
Without warning, Sarge slammed his fist against the trailer with enough force, that the whole thing vibrated.
- I CAN BARELY AFFORD NECESSITIES WITH WHAT I'M EARNING, WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I HAVE THE FUNDS TO BUY BACK MY OWN PROPERTY FROM YOU?!
- Woah, woah, woah! C-Calm down there, friend! - Pauly raised his hands, frightened by his outburst. He'll have to think of a new method. - Ummm, uhhh, you see, I'll return your map to you, but.. uh, you have to pay a toll first! You know, for crossing into Pepita Prarie and all of that..
- Yeah, sure! I bet you gained the authority to do that in the 5 days since we've last seen eachother.
- No, wait, I used the wrong word. Um. It's not really a toll, per se, more like, uh... a safety.. insurance... thing..?
Sarge, now slightly more willing to listen after the new term was dropped, didn't speak. The nervous seller interpreted this as a sign to continue.
- Okay, so.. I'll make sure you and your companion over there stay out of harm's way on your adventures..! And, uh.. the map's in it because... you're, eh, safer when you're not lost.
- And how exactly would you do that?
- It, ah, depends on the type of danger! Like, you know.. Uh, anyway, are you interested? Limited time offer, and all of that, don't miss out!
Crushida took a deep inhale, then exhaled for just as long. At this point, he was tired and wanted to finish the conversation. Preferably not in a casualty, as that would be hard to explain without getting in even more trouble. The Onion Ring has SOME standards, atleast.
- ...How much is it, then?
- Hmm.. - Big Pauly thought about it for a while. - Let's sayy.. 10$. Small price for full-time protection, no?
He almost immediately received the cash and, as promised, gave back the map. Although, he swore he could hear Sarge muttering something explicit about him. Nonetheless, money is money, and a paying customer is always right. Unless they demand a discount, but that's a whole different situation. He bid farewell to Sarge, who didn't acknowledge it. The Onion placed his item into his pocket and made his way to where Ruben was laying down and catching his breath. He didn't reach them until they were around the middle of their exchange. It was clear, his body was not built for any kind of physical activity.
- Aye, get up! - Ruben's boss nudged him with his foot.
- ...Haahh... can'tt... - he said, slowly regaining his energy, but still feeling his lungs hurting. - ... I'm... hahh...exhausted..
- I'm afraid you don't have a choice. I'm not carrying you - Crushida bluntly stated, then started walking back they way they came. - We need to continue on our original path. Don't waste my time here.
- Yessir.. But slow down this time.. - Ruben said, standing up and weakly wiping a little bit of sweat off of his forehead. - I almost lost you there..
- In that case, learn to walk faster. You're gonna need it.